Sickness and Sorrow
by Kaivern
Summary: "It was his fault that Al wasn't living a normal life right now; it was his idea to bring their mother back to life with human transmutation, so why did Al have to pay the larger price?"


Here's another angst filled fic that features only Ed and Al. It's not fluffy, it's more like hurt without the comfort. '-'" There are no spoilers for the both animes and the manga, so if you haven't gotten far in them, you will be fine here. But, if you aren't finished with the series... What the heck are you doing here in the first place? Go finish reading it!

Disclaimer: Hiromu Arakawa is the genius who created Fullmetal Alchemist, so of course she should get full credit for it.

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The ceiling was spinning and Ed watched as his vision swam along with it, and he could feel his stomach doing flips at the same time. He groaned as the inevitable wave of nausea hit him like a wall of bricks. He turned onto his side and emptied out the contents of his stomach in a bucket that was strategically placed on the floor; the acids burned his throat as they forced their way out.

He was glad that there was a bucket by the side of the bed so the unsavory fluids wouldn't splatter all over the place. But it didn't stop the room from smelling terribly of vomit. Al would come in his room to check on him every few minutes and to clean out the bucket for him, and Ed was extremely grateful for it, he had to think of someway to repay his little brother for it later.

But for now, he was stuck in his sick bed, throwing up his guts. He didn't even know _how_ he got sick. Of course, it could have possibly been that sketchy looking slice of meat on his sandwich that he had for lunch the other day. Nothing screams food poisoning more than something that tastes like fishy beef.

Just then Al opened the door to Ed's small room, interrupting Ed's musings, and slipped in through the door frame, the spikes on his armor scratching at the wood slightly and Ed winced at the unpleasant noise. It sounded like chairs scraping against a wooden floor, and it sounded like it was amplified because of his pounding headache.

"How are you feeling, brother?" Al's voice echoed throughout the room as he walked over to Ed, who had propped himself up on his elbows to face Al better. He immediately regretted it as another wave of nausea hit him. He stooped over the side of his bed once more and dry heaved; there was absolutely nothing left in his stomach to throw up.

"Just dandy." Ed replied in a gruff, sarcastic tone, it sounded like he had swallowed several pieces of sand paper. He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve and decided to curl up on himself in his bed. Al just sighed and shook his head at his brother's actions and picked up the bucket before making his way out the door. Ed watched as Al made his way out of the room once more to carry out the routine that was established earlier this morning.

Al quickly returned with the bucket in hand, he placed it on the floor carefully before turning towards the door once more. He knew how his brother appreciated his privacy when he wasn't feeling his best, but it didn't mean he liked it one bit. But before he could leave the room Ed's scratchy voice stopped him.

"Thanks, Al." Al looked over at his brother who had a tired smile stretched across his paler than normal face. The bright red lights in the helmet shone in pleasure as Al looked over at his brother.

"Don't mention it, Ed." Was all Al said, and he stood in the doorway feeling a little awkward, but happy nonetheless. Ed never liked to openly show his gratitude to other people, but here he was thanking him for something as simple as taking care of him while he was sick. It made him bubble up with happiness to hear such praise directed at him from his older brother. It could have just been the fever, which was tinting Ed's face a light pink; talking, but it was still nice.

Ed watched as Al walked out of the room again with a small smile on his face. He truly was grateful for what his brother was doing for him. Especially after all he had done to him to screw up both of their lives. It was his fault that Al wasn't living a normal life right now; it was his idea to bring their mother back to life with human transmutation, so why did Al have to pay the larger price?

Ed shut his eyes as they began to sting slightly, he wasn't going to cry, but damn it, it was so hard not too. With the fever completely screwing around with his head, it was hard to keep complete control over his emotions. He was glad that no one was in the room at the moment; he would just about kill himself or the witness; that was always another option, if someone saw him in this pitiful state.

The tears left dry tracks on the side of his face and he scrubbed at them with his flesh arm harshly. He had no right to cry now, Al couldn't even cry; he wasn't even able to get sick like he was right now. He shouldn't be sitting here doing nothing while Al was suffering in the numb state he was in; unable to feel, unable to breath, unable to truly _live his own life._

Ed rubbed at his eyes until they hurt, but the tears continued to spill over his cheeks. He couldn't stop them no matter how much he told himself that he had no right, no right at _all, _to be crying_._ Of all the times and places he could have had a break down, it had to be now, while he was feeling completely useless and depressed.

He grabbed a fistful of his blankets and clenched his teeth together tightly. He shouldn't be sitting here in his own sorrow. He needed to do something so that he could continue working on returning Al to his original body, but unfortunately, all he could do right now was lay in bed and wait for his illness to pass. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm him; it helped a little too, the tears weren't sliding down his face as much anymore.

Ed started to blink his eyes furiously as he heard the sounds of hollow footsteps outside of his bed room door. When the door had opened, Ed was pretty sure that all traces of his previously break down were erased. Well, he hoped that they were. That last thing he wanted was for his little brother to find out about his little mental breakdown.

Al came in with a large bowl of soup and Ed's stomach growled hungrily as the smell spread across the room, covering up the previous scent of illness. Ed also knew that it would taste great, just like his brothers cooking always did, but he was probably just going to end up throwing it back up in a few minutes. Ed reached out to grab the warm bowl and Al handed it over, Ed sighed in contentment as the bowl warmed up his flesh hand.

"Thanks again, Al. I don't know what I would do without you around." Ed smiled at his brother, his words meaning more than what they were on the surface, his gratitude was just too hard to explain with just meager words. Ed watched as the two red soul lights in Al's helmet danced around happily at the praise.

"Like it said earlier, brother. Don't mention it. You've already done so much for me, and I'm just returning the favor. Equivalent exchange right?" The suit of armor went over to the other side of the room and picked up a pile of books. "I'm going to the library to return these."

"Okay, see you later then Al." Ed said as Al walked out of the bedroom with a small wave. Ed waited until he heard the front door close before beginning to speak again in nothing more than a tiny whisper.

"No Al, I'm the one who owes you. You have done so much more for me than you know. I'm so sorry for all the things I've made you go through."

oOoOoOo

Al made a noise that was similar to a sigh as he walked down the stairs with the large amounts of books cradled in his arms. He was worried about his brother; he was completely stunned speechless when he walked into the room to see drying tear tracks on his brother's face. He wanted to asked about them so much, he was so curious, and so, so worried about his brother.

But he knew that his brother wouldn't appreciate the sentiment. Ed would have just brushed off the question with some sort of excuse that he would have made up on the spot. Sometimes his brother's pride annoyed him to no end.

Though, the thing that ticked him off the most was that he would always trust his brother's word, even when it was completely obvious that he was lying. Al would berate himself for it later on, but it was just so hard not to believe his brother when Ed told him something to his face, and whenever Ed lied to him, it _hurt._

It hurt to know that his brother tries to stand so strong for the both of them, never wanting to show any kind of weakness. And it hurt to see that he was slowly falling down in a pit filled with endless pain and sorrow with no visible way out. Al could only watch as the bags under Ed's eyes continue to deepen and the luster in his brother's eyes begin to fade more and more each day. The flame was finally starting to dim once more and Al felt like there was nothing he could do to stop that.

But when his brother had smiled at his in the room, he felt like he had done something right. He felt like he was actually helping his struggling brother through the darkness and it made him feel so much better knowing that. He was the one that was keeping the weakened flame of his brother's soul lit.

So he would do whatever he could to help his brother, he didn't want to see Ed struggle alone anymore. They got into this mess together and they were getting out of it together, Al would make sure of that.


End file.
